“When you come in to work tomorrow, we’ll measure your arousal and remove the ointment,” Roark told her, his voice a soft growl. “And then I’ll attach the nipple caps.”
“All…all right,” Sammi somehow managed to agree. “That sounds fine.”
“Good.” At last he released her nipples. “You can put your blouse back on now, Samantha. And then we’ll get back to work.”
Fifteen
Roark watched his assistant as she shifted in her chair. She was working on some paperwork he’d assigned her, but it was clear she was having a hard time keeping focused on the task at hand. Probably because of the way the bonding fruit lotion was stimulating her nipples, he thought, his shaft throbbing in his trousers.
He hadn’t anticipated how stimulating actually testing his designs and prototypes out on a willing subject would be. He’d only thought about collecting data and making certain his test subject was fully and thoroughly aroused by his program of gradual, building sexual stimulation before the moment of insemination.
But of course, that was before he had met and hired Samantha, he had to admit to himself. Her full, lush figure, big green eyes, and long strawberry blonde hair added something to the equation.
She adds sex, he thought, looking at her possessively. Sexual desire…as well as sexual submission.
He had to admit, he’d expected to have to do much more to convince her to go along with his arousal program and to try the various prototypes. But she’d put up only token resistance before agreeing to put on the breast harness and it had been her suggestion that he rub the ointment into her nipples instead of doing it herself.
Roark wondered if she would still be so compliant when he had her strapped into the insemination machine—which he still hadn’t showed her. Would she allow him to strap her into the harness and spread her legs willingly for whichever phallus he chose to use on her? Or would she argue and try to get out of the contract she had signed?
He simply didn’t know. But looking at the black straps of the breast harness and the tight pink points of her nipples, clearly visible through her white silk blouse, Roark was eager to find out.
Sixteen
Sammi had forgotten she had promised to have dinner with Meg and Berik that evening. When Meg called to remind her, she was faced with a dilemma—should she cancel with her friend? Or should she go to the dinner wearing the breast harness Roark had put on her?
It didn’t occur to her to take the harness off. He had commanded her to leave it on and to be honest, Sammi wasn’t exactly sure how to take it off anyway. It seemed to fasten in the back like a bra but there were no hooks and eyes and no obvious way to remove it.
Besides, her boss had told her to keep it on. And for some reason, Sammi found herself wanting to obey him.
It’s not that I’m submissive or kinky or anything—I just have to make sure he gets accurate data, that’s all, she told herself uneasily.
In the end, she decided to go to dinner with Meg but to wear a sweater that was thick enough to cover the harness and the fact that her nipples were constantly erect because of the stimulation both from the harness itself and the bonding fruit ointment.
Her choice turned out to be a mistake. Though she wore the softest sweater she owned, the fabric still rubbed tantalizingly against her stimulated peaks, making it rather difficult to concentrate on the dinner conversation. Especially when she remembered the way Roark had tugged and pinched her sensitive points when he was rubbing the ointment on in the first place…
Luckily, the dinner turned out to be with Meg only. Berik had been sent on a mission in a different galaxy and was going to be gone all week. So at least there was only one person to notice that Sammi was acting strangely.
“…so you can imagine how much I miss him!” Meg said and sighed deeply as she picked at the teriyaki salmon on her plate. It was usually one of her favorites, but she’d barely eaten two bites. Clearly missing her husband was messing with her appetite.
“I’m sure you do.” Sammi made a sympathetic face and tried surreptitiously to pluck the sweater she was wearing away from her breasts. She was filling it out much more fully than she usually did because of the float dots in the harness which were keeping her breasts in perfect, perky position without a bit of sagging.
“He’ll be back in a week but we haven’t been bonded that long,” Meg continued mournfully. “So a week feels like a year. I swear, Sammi, I don’t know what I’m going to do!”
“You could catch up on your reading,” Sammi suggested distractedly. “Or, um, I don’t know…take up knitting or crocheting or something like that?”